Message-ID: <22614asstr$949554603@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-Message-ID: <20000203012605.78215.qmail@hotmail.com> From: "az il" Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; format=flowed Subject: {ASSM} My Reward, CH48 (MC, Mf) Date: Thu, 3 Feb 2000 00:10:03 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: Lambchop, apuleius My Reward By Azil Copyright 1998-2000 This chapter and the preceding forty-seven are available at www.storiesonline.net. Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction. No character is meant to resemble any specific person, living or dead. Sexual actions of various types will be depicted in this story. This does not mean that the author approves of these actions, has ever performed any of them, or would perform them if given the opportunity. (Nor does it mean that he doesn't, hasn't, and/or wouldn't). This is inappropriate reading material for minors. In many jurisdictions it may be illegal for minors to read it, or for adults to make it available for minors to read. The author urges you not to disobey these laws. Even if it isn't illegal where you are, keep it away from kids anyway. CHAPTER 48: SARAH WANTS TO BE A MILLIONAIRE Things were quiet for the next couple weeks. Or as quiet as they ever get in my various lives. I blame myself for what happened next. I had become so absorbed in my various adventures and so distracted that I didn't see that Sarah and Thomas had both become distant, and that Sarah was even more sullen and cold than usual. Something was on their minds, but I didn't realize it. What was on Thomas's mind was to take a while to become apparent. Sarah moved more quickly -- it was in the middle of the month that Ashley called Tom O'Malley one weekday afternoon just after school let out, telling him tearfully that he had to come to her house immediately. When I got there, Ashley met me at the front door, her eyes red with crying. She led me into the living room, where I was surprised to find Sarah, looking very smug. It took no mental giant to work out that Sarah's smugness and Ashley's tears were related -- somehow Sarah had just scored big in her war with Ashley. "So what's the story, Sarah?" I asked. "Well, Tom, you see . . . ever since you informed me at the football game that all I was was a good piece of ass, I've been thinking . . . ." She spoke with a self-satisfied smirk, clearly believing herself to be in total control of the situation. "I decided that I was going the wrong way in my life, and I'd be inclined to thank you for straightening me out, except," she laughed and put out her hands in supplication, "how can I do that when you and Ashley are continuing in the behavior I've renounced?" I said nothing -- merely noting to myself that it appeared to be a well-rehearsed speech. "I see you doing such awful things to my good friend, Ashley -- wild orgies at your beach house, anal sex," she tried to express horror, but it was a poor performance. "Well," she went on, "how can I let such things continue?" "How indeed?" I agreed. "So what are you going to do about it?" I sat down and gestured Ashley to sit next to me, pulling her close and putting her head on my shoulder. She had stopped crying now, but buried her face against me. "I plan to go to the police and get your nasty ass thrown in jail where it belongs," she snarled, before returning to her pose. "You've been having sex with at least two underage girls, and probably dozens of others." "No doubt," I agreed with a laugh, giving Ashley a kiss on her nose. She tried to smile at me, but was too frightened. "Tom, I'm so sorry," she said, starting to cry again, "I never should have invited her to your place -- this wouldn't have happened." "Maybe I'll go to the FBI," Sarah mused. "You took us across state lines, you know." "I'd do the FBI, if I were you," I advised. "So much more impressive than the Phoenix PD." Sarah laughed. "You're doing a good job of trying to be Joe Cool about this -- I suppose you think I'm joking, but . . . ." She was right that my calm demeanor was a put-on. I was boiling mad, but it's easy to ignore threats and maintain a veneer of calm when you've got Reward on your side. "No, actually, I don't think you're joking," I answered, "but I also don't think you're planning to go to the police. What does that gain you? It doesn't seem like the Sarah Mallory style -- blackmail seems more likely." "You certainly are a very smart guy -- just like Ashley always says. Yep, blackmail it is," she said with another laugh. "You know, in the movies the blackmailer always says something like "blackmail is such an ugly term" and then suggests some euphemism. I don't mind it at all." I asked for her terms. "Don't pay her, Tom!" Ashley pleaded. "She can't prove anything." Sarah laughed again -- she was really enjoying herself. "You think I didn't think of that, you stupid little bitch? I don't have to prove anything. So what if he gets off? The publicity will still ruin him and his business." She returned her attention to me. "I want a million up front and twenty-five thousand a month for the next seven years. At that point, the statute of limitations expires and you're off." I didn't know what the statute of limitations was on statutory rape and interstate transport of underage girls, but it appeared Sarah had done her homework, and I saw no point in challenging her legal analysis. I rather admired her for not thinking small. I also idly wondered what a guy in this position would do without Reward. Would I pay up or try to brazen it out? Would I bargain with her, or kill her? I think I might very well try to kill her. Oh well, I'd never know. "What makes you think I have that kind of money?" I asked. "I've seen your house." "Good point," I replied, "but that doesn't mean I have a million in cash lying around." "I'll give you a week," she answered, getting up. "Sorry to leave, but I have homework to do. Don't forget the test in Spanish, Ashley," she added cheerily. "Won't your parents think it a bit strange when you suddenly have a bulging bank account?" I asked. "Screw 'em." "Another good answer," I replied. "Okay, I'll get you your money within the next few days. See you later, Sarah." My daughter left, still very sure of herself, but perhaps wondering about how easily I'd capitulated. I was happy to let her wonder. When she was gone, Ashley again cried on my shoulder, apologizing for introducing Sarah into our midst. "She used to be such a good friend," she said wonderingly. "I don't know what happened to her." "I wonder about that too," I said. "But let's not worry about Sarah right now." I held her close and kissed her lightly on her forehead, her eyes, her nose. We cuddled like that for quite a long time. I honestly had no intentions of doing anything sexual; it didn't seem like the right atmosphere. But I forgot that sex can be, among its many other qualities, a great healer. As we kissed and embraced, Ashley, already emotionally overwrought, became steadily more excited, her hands beginning to run down my back. "Tom," she said at last, "let's go to my room." As we walked down the hall, she said, "Do you remember, this is where we did it the first time?" I remembered. The room was still the same teenage mess as before; I wondered if the crumpled McDonald's bag on the floor was the same one that had been there almost a year and a half before. "I remember that you were very shy and uncertain of yourself," I said, kissing her. "I remember you didn't think you were very sexually attractive," I added, beginning to unbutton her blouse, as she smiled happily at me. "I remember you thought your breasts were too small." "I still do," she answered, giggling. "But all that matters is that you like them . . . and that you love me." "I do and I do." We embraced in a long, deep kiss that ended only when we couldn't breathe. Ashley finally pulled away, saying we needed to hurry, because her parents would be home soon. She turned toward the bed, and I had another flashback. I remembered playing with her body that day as we looked into the big mirror over her dresser, and telling her what I was doing as she gradually became aroused and ready to have sex with me for the first time. I told Reward to send Ashley's parents on a long errand, and removed her worry about their return. Then I stopped her with a hand around her waist. My other hand reached under her open blouse and cupped her breast. "Do you remember, Ashley?" I asked softly. "Do you remember watching in the mirror as I stroked your breasts?" She smiled and nodded, looking at my hand caressing her small breast through her bra, as the other hand rubbed her flat belly. "Do you remember that I told you how beautiful you are, and that I took your bra off, and that I pinched your nipples like this?" I pulled her nipples out away from her body, then released them and again cupped the two breasts. Ashley just looked at her reflection in the mirror and leaned against me, breathing faster. I nibbled on her neck and ear, as one of my hands traveled down her body, slipping under the waist of her skirt. "Do you remember that I took your panties off and touched your pussy for the first time and you were very wet?" She was whining slightly now, her eyes closed, as my finger slid into her hot pussy. "Do you remember that I told you that I was going to make love to you, that I was getting your hot pussy ready for my cock?" "Oh god, Tom, I'm ready." I released the button on her skirt and it dropped to the floor, then I lowered her panties to the middle of her thighs, as far as I could push them. "Look at yourself," I whispered in her ear as my finger again entered her. "You're getting finger-fucked," I said, "and your pussy is wet and hot, and you're turning me on." She turned to kiss me. "I want you turned on." "Then why don't you finger yourself," I suggested, "and we'll both watch." Ashley had never masturbated with me present, but she was hot enough to try anything. She slipped a finger into her vagina, grinning sheepishly at the mirror. I again slid both my hands over her breasts and began massaging them, simultaneously rubbing the nipples between my thumbs and index fingers. Ashley was getting more excited, and was now staring at herself in the mirror. "Are you hot, Ashley?" I asked. She nodded, slack-jawed. "Then open your pussy wide for me," I whispered. "Use both hands." She reached between her legs, parting the lips of her pussy, exposing the pink interior and the very erect clitoris, which she began to rub lightly. "You're wide open for me, aren't you, Ashley?" I asked, kissing lightly on her ear as I whispered. She looked into the mirror, then grinned, saying, "God, this is so dirty." I laughed softly. "Are you a dirty girl?" Again she grinned, then put on a little girl voice, simpering into the mirror. "No, I'm a sweet innocent girl who's being taken advantage of by a nasty man, just like Sarah says." She turned her head and kissed me. "Fuck me, nasty man." We were only about a foot from her bed, and she bent over, supporting herself with her hands on the bed. "Come on," she said with another simper, "Put your nasty cock in my sweet innocent little pussy." I couldn't resist that invitation, particularly as it was underlined by a wiggle of Ashley's shapely ass. I reached under that ass to separate the pouting lips of her pussy and slid my cock into her. I had not been exaggerating when I said it was wet -- my cock slid in easily. Ashley and I had by now had sex many times -- dozens, hundreds of times. But I never tired of her, never was bored. Her pussy gripped my cock tightly as I entered her, and when I was fully in her she sighed softly and moved her ass, trying to get just a bit more. Then she was still and said softly, "Don't move, Tom, I just want to feel you in me." I didn't move, but I couldn't resist returning to our game. "Look at yourself in the mirror, little girl. Look at the nasty man fucking you." She looked up to see me grinning at her, and herself bent over to receive my cock. She giggled softly. "Man, this is so strange. I feel like a voyeur, watching myself get fucked." She wiggled her ass, laughing at the image of herself. "Come on, nasty guy," she said then, "why aren't you fucking me? Don't you like sweet innocent girls?" I pulled out and pushed back into her, a bit harder than usual. "Yeah," I said gruffly, "I like to fuck sweet innocent girls real hard, because they're not used to it." Ashley grunted as my cock drove into her, then pushed back. "Oh yeah, do it hard to me, nasty man, do it real hard." Then we quit the game and just went at it as hard as we could, driving the ugly images of betrayal out of our memories with the fervor of our coupling. I grabbed Ashley's hips and slammed my cock into her hard and fast, while she pushed her cunt back at me with equal passion. There was no way we could fuck at such a pace for long, and it was only a few moments before Ashley was climaxing, her squeals of delight ringing through the room and convulsion rippling through her body. Just a stroke or two more and I was shooting into her. Ashley fell forward onto the bed, and I lay down beside her. If I thought we were done, though, I was greatly mistaken. As soon as I was on the bed, Ashley rolled over and spread her thighs. "Do me again, nasty man," she said with a leer. I laughed. "You know, I don't think you're as sweet and innocent as you pretend to be." Ashley took the opportunity to change the game. She stuck two fingers in her pussy and began to run them in and out. "I'm not. I'm a dirty, nasty little slut, and I want a hard cock in my slut pussy." Unfortunately, Ashley had a hard time with this role, and started to giggle. I tried not to laugh at her. "Any hard cock," I asked, "or is there a particular cock you'd prefer?" Working hard at keeping a straight face and trying to sound tough, she answered, "Stick your cock in me and I'll decide if it's hard enough for me. If not I'll go out and spread my legs on the sidewalk and let the whole neighborhood fuck me." We both laughed at that image. "Well," I said, as seriously as I could, "I guess I'd better fuck you then, because I don't want you corrupting all the little boys around here." I rolled atop her and kissed her deeply, caressing her breasts, then moving my head down to take one of the small breasts into my mouth. As I suckled it, Ashley sighed with contentment, putting her hand on the back of my head and holding me close. "This is fun, Tom," she said at last, "but I don't want any more games. I just want you to show me that you love me." I kissed her deeply again, lying atop her for long moments. We remained locked in that embrace until she moved her hips slightly and I simply sank into her, my cock sliding almost with direction from me into her sopping pussy. We again stayed motionless for a long time, my cock buried deep inside her pussy, my tongue equally deep inside her mouth, our arms wrapped around each other as we hugged each other tightly. Then I slowly pulled about halfway out, and equally slowly reentered, setting up a languid rhythm, our hips barely moving, our mouths remaining locked. This was the sort of fuck that takes a long time, and had Reward not been vigilant, no doubt Ashley's parents would have walked in to the sight of their daughter with her legs spread wide and her boyfriend between them. But that didn't happen, of course, and Ashley and I fucked quietly on, increasing our pace only gradually. Finally, Ashley's legs wound themselves around my back, she pulled her mouth away from mine, and she whispered in my ear the single word, "Now." I sped up, driving my cock deep into her, as her hips pushed up at me. I entered her with long, smooth strokes, pulling out each time to come back harder. Her heels dug into my butt as we sped up, urging me on, and soon her arms pulled me to her, demanding the short, rapid strokes she needed for her orgasm. I drove into her again and again, continuing through her contractions, and then at last, as she fell limply to the bed, driving one more time deep into her and resting there to shoot my seed into her womb. We lay locked together for a long time afterward, enjoying the afterglow, before I reluctantly took my withered cock out of her, and pulled away. Even then, we lay side by side for a while before anyone spoke. While the sex had been good, it hadn't totally driven the day's earlier events from Ashley's mind. "Tom," she asked pensively, "I know you have a lot of money and all that, but can you really afford to give Sarah a million dollars?" I laughed. "I could if I wanted to, but don't worry about Sarah any more. She's not going to get her million and she's not going to ever bother you again." It's a measure of Ashley's faith in me that there was not a flicker of doubt on her face as she asked, "What are you going to do?" I kissed her pretty nose as I got up to leave. "Your parents will be home soon," I said. "I'll tell you about it later." Then I was gone. Enjoyable as this interlude with Ashley had been, when it ended, Ashley's memory had returned to Sarah and it was no different for me. Despite my brave words to Ashley, and despite my knowledge that I could deal with the situation, exactly how to deal with it remained an open question. I drove home rather than having myself transported, to give myself time to think about the situation. I've made plain any number of times in this narrative that I disapproved of my daughter's greed and self-centeredness. But I must admit that I'd been shocked that she'd stoop to blackmail. And on a rather grand scale. I wondered as I drove what Sarah's plans were relative to her mother and me. When I'd asked this question earlier, I'd received the airy reply "screw 'em!", but I presumed that she must have some type of plan in mind. She was still a few months short of her eighteenth birthday, so she couldn't even withdraw money from her small savings account without our signatures. And I presumed a deposit of a million dollars to such an account might raise the bank manager's eyebrows. Neither could she spend a significant portion of the money without attracting attention. I supposed she must be planning to sit on the money until her birthday, and then perhaps moving out on her own. Anyway, it was all academic, since no such thing was going to happen. The question was how I should deal with my darling little blackmailer. As a father, the usual range of punishment options occurred to me, from a good talking-to, through various degrees of grounding, to disemboweling. The first two I rejected as insufficient, the latter as too messy. I could hear Chris now, saying, "Don't think you're going to strew internal organs all over the family room and leave it for me to clean up." Knowing me as you do by now, forty-eight chapters into this story, it's not going to surprise you to learn that, having rejected more traditional forms of chastisement, my thoughts turned to sexual punishments. Part of the reason, beyond my own obsessions, was because I asked Beth for advice. This being a problem I couldn't very well discuss with Chris, but feeling that I needed another parental perspective, I dropped in on Beth after leaving Ashley's house. She was, at the moment, in her dungeon, having her pussy eaten by one of her male slaves. The slave was simultaneously being butt-fucked by a female slave with a strap-on, who was being fucked by a male, and so on, through about thirty or so participants. While I admired the smooth efficiency of the operation, I asked Beth if she could suspend the action long enough to help me out. With a wave of her hand, she made everybody freeze in mid-stroke, reluctantly getting up from beneath her slave, who remained in position, his tongue poised over a pussy that was no longer there. Had I expected any sympathy from Beth, I would have been sorely disappointed. Luckily I hadn't. When I had finished explaining the situation, and she had finished laughing, she said, "See? That's what you get for being so damned respectable and hanging out with sweetie-pies like Ashley. If you're a real lowlife scumball, nobody can blackmail you. Can you imagine somebody trying that shit on Hitler or Al Capone or somebody like that?" I agreed that both cases seemed unlikely, but added that she wasn't helping any. Unfortunately, Beth's ideas were no more serviceable than mine. She best suggestion was that I turn Sarah over to her, and that she could lock her in the dungeon for a week or so, and have her gang-raped twenty-four hours a day by the slaves. Given that that's the best, you have some idea of the nature of the others. Beth, I decided, was becoming seriously twisted. She was helpful, however, in turning my thoughts to using sex as a punishment. But my idea was to go in a different direction than Beth had in mind. Given that Sarah was such a randy little piece, the best punishment I could impose would be to take her sexual pleasures away. Letting Beth return to getting her pussy eaten, I left for home. My last sight as I climbed the stairs out of the dungeon was of Beth getting back in position under her slave's tongue and the assembly-line fuck churning into motion again. -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+